


can i beat within your heart

by nevershootamockingbird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevershootamockingbird/pseuds/nevershootamockingbird
Summary: She feels unsteady, off kilter; she doesn’t regret sharing her past, thinks Jester needed it, hopes it helped, but she wishes she could have just let it alone, ignored it longer, pretended she was fine, still fine, just fine.None of them are fine, she thinks; Beau reaches up and back to brush her fingers over the ink on her neck, wonders which of them will be the first to break, wonders if it hasn’t already been herself.





	can i beat within your heart

**Author's Note:**

> How about that episode, huh?
> 
> My emotions are still a mess, but this all came pouring out once it closed, so here you go. Spoilers for episode 46 if you have not seen it yet.
> 
> Those talks between Beau and Jester, and then Yasha and Jester and Caduceus, were so heart wrenching. There was a little time between them and reaching their destination, and this felt like it would fit in well. Here's a little could-be scenario, of Beau and the aftermath and a tattoo for Yasha.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

“Love you, Jess,” and she wants the ship to swallow her whole, feels her cheeks heat as a sudden wave of uncertainty washes through her. This is too much-- she’s too much, again-- she can’t let this fall through her fingers--

Jester’s arms tighten around her, the other woman’s breath going unsteady for a brief moment, and then her voice, sweet like honey, “I love you, too.”

Beau squeezes her friend’s arms, so grateful she could cry, then flees as soon as she’s released, tosses a hasty, “Don’t stay up too late,” over her shoulder, wishes she had the courage to turn around and find Jester’s smile. She makes her way down the empty cabin below, instead, warm leaching away from her bones as the feeling of Jester’s tight hold fades. She feels unsteady, off kilter; she doesn’t regret sharing her past, thinks Jester needed it, hopes it helped, but she wishes she could have just let it alone, ignored it longer, pretended she was fine, still fine, just fine.

None of them are fine, she thinks; Beau reaches up and back to brush her fingers over the ink on her neck, wonders which of them will be the first to break, wonders if it hasn’t already been herself.

The ship heaves to the side, groaning and creaking low, and Beau crashes into her bunk, uses it as an excuse to finally collapse down in a heap. She curls tight into a ball, wills herself to sleep, just fucking sleep, knows she’ll be called upon to help steer through the storm soon enough.

Jester’s hitching breath, her fragile smiles and caged eyes, follow her down into an uneasy rest. Her dreams-- nightmares, fuck, as though they’ve been anything else for weeks now-- are filled with Yasha’s uncertainty, Caleb’s strained silence, Fjord’s cracking mask, Nott’s terror and Caduceus’s doubts. She is drowning, cannot breathe, cannot save them, cannot save anyone, it’s happening again, no, please, no--

She is grateful when Marius comes pounding at her door.

Beau misses something in the storm, she realizes; there’s the smell of singed wood, of ozone too close, and Yasha looks frazzled, badly injured and dazed. She takes the wheel from Fjord, squints through the rain to watch the hurt pass over Yasha’s face as she speaks to Caduceus and Jester, watches the sorrow and fear and _pain_ , pulsing and festering and there, and gods, how could any of them have ever missed that, how could _she_ have missed that?

Thunder rolls through the clouds above, and the waves toss their ship, and Beauregard swallows back her loathing, focuses on the one thing she can do right in this moment, holds steady to keep the ship on course as they head for more unknown.

Fjord wakes her later, still at the helm, and she wants to laugh, just for a moment, because she can’t even keep this in check, not anymore.

By some damned miracle they’re still on course, and she lets herself relax, just a little, takes a deep breath and steps away, watches as her friends come up one by one to face the new day.

Jester and Yasha don’t come up, don’t come up, don’t come up.

Beau seems to be the only one who notices, or at least the only one who worries, and she grinds her teeth together, shifts her weight as she waits another five, ten, twenty minutes.

It feels like there’s a storm brewing in her body as she finally makes her way below deck.

There is no answer as she knocks at Yasha’s door, no one inside when she dares to check inside, and for a wild, hysterical moment Beau wonders if she’s gone off again, followed the storm out to the middle of the fucking ocean and disappeared. She shakes the thought but can’t swallow back the fear, bitter and heavy on her tongue as she makes her way down to the room she and Jester have kept for themselves.

The door is ajar, and it is quiet but not silent as she steps up, stopping just before she places her hand against the frame to knock.

There’s a repetitive tapping sound she recognizes, and as she looks through the partially open door she already knows what she will see:

Jester on the bed, Yasha curled on the floor in front of her, hair swept up into a messy pile as the tiefling carefully inks something onto the back of the aasimar’s neck.

Beau feels a swirl of guilt in her stomach; this is not for her, not something she should be seeing, but she feels frozen in place, unable to breathe as she watches the scene unfold. There is moisture in Yasha’s eyes but no tears on her face; that same grief Beau had seen last night is unfurled across her face, a mourning so deep and so heavy it seems a wonder she can move while holding it all within herself. Jester is focused but silent, something pinched about her mouth, her posture rigid, and her tail is wrapped so tightly around one of Yasha’s biceps that Beau is sure it will leave a bruise.

“Turn your head a little, please,” Jester murmurs, hands pulling away for a brief minute, and Beau watches Yasha shift, sees a flash of the tattoo as she does, feels something inside of her break open, freshly cracked and oozing.

She barely thinks to pull the door closed before fleeing to the deck.

Beau stumbles up, makes her way to the nearest railing and sags against it, swallowing back the bile in her throat. There’s a sob trying to force its way out of her chest, but she grits her teeth against it, clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, waits one, two, three minutes until it passes, just like always.

The image seems to be branded on the insides of her eyelids, but it does not disappear as she blinks her eyes open, desperate to shake away this secret that does not belong to her.

She looks over the vast ocean, tries to search for the islands they are heading towards, but all Beau can see is the cluster of delicate flowers against Yasha’s pale skin, bloody and raw.

They come up, almost an hour later, Jester immediately wandering off towards Caduceus. Yasha comes to a stop in the middle of the deck, and Beau gathers her courage, walks over to meet her, reaches out for a split second before pulling her hand away, desperate for the contact but unwilling to initiate anything unwanted.

She has crossed enough boundaries, she thinks.

“I’m sorry,” and the words comes out weak, almost broken. Yasha blinks slowly, confusion heavy on her brow, but Beau sees the split-second flash of panic through her eyes, rushes to continue, “I’m sorry, that we left and you didn’t know where we were. I’m sorry we went somewhere you couldn’t follow.”

“Oh,” and the storm clears from her face, posture easing a little. Yasha nods once, something like relief in the tilt of her mouth as she says, “Thank you, Beau.”

“It won’t happen again.” The taller woman sighs quietly, eyes shutting, and it strikes Beau, just how weary she looks. Beau waits, waits, waits for her to meet her gaze again, holds her voice steady as she repeats, “I promise, we won’t go disappearing on you like that again.”

“You should not make promises you cannot keep,” Yasha murmurs, and it sounds like she means something else, but Beau doesn’t know, won’t ask, won’t push for answers, won’t ever bring up the bouquet that now lies hidden under her mass of wild hair.

She tilts her chin up, keeps the other woman’s gaze, feels afraid of her own honesty as she says, “I don’t.”

Yasha looks a little taken aback.

“I don’t,” Beau says again, softer, and something deep in her aches, wishes that they could just take an hour, a day, just to breathe again. Yasha settles back into herself, something a little sad to curl of her lips as she nods before turning to walk towards the helm.

Beau takes a deep breath and does not break, takes another breath and heads for the stern, stares out at their wake as she thinks about what makes a friend, what makes a family. Jester finds her, sighing softly as she leans against her, and Beau gives herself this small moment of comfort.

They’re chasing destinies, or something like it; maybe they’ll have time to help each other mend along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed even a little as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> I am still emotionally fraught after that episode, so apologies if some of this does not make sense, or seems out of character. I tried really hard to keep it all true, but I have a lot of feelings about Beau and Jester and Yasha right now, so I'm sorry if anything doesn't come across as quite right.
> 
> Title is from "My Friends" by Oh Wonder, because my twin was playing it after the episode and this line hit me like a brick to the gut (as though it hasn't done enough wonderful emotional damage this week).
> 
> Thank you for reading! You can find me over at [tumblr](https://nevershootamockingbird.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/daleytwin1) if you feel like yelling with me about these lovely characters (or anything else, really).


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